


[---  -.-]

by peppermintquartz



Category: Captain America (Movies), Fixer Upper - Fandom
Genre: As well as Joanna and Chip, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Mostly focused on Steve and Bucky, Other characters are really just cameos, References to Drugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 16:06:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16519712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppermintquartz/pseuds/peppermintquartz
Summary: “How long will this take.” Bucky looked from Sam to Steve to Potts to Hill.Hill met his gaze. “Eight to twelve weeks, Barnes. In Waco, Texas. I’ll have agents tagged to the region, of course.”“Eight. To twelve. Weeks.” Bucky had to take a few deep breaths.Steve reached over to his left to cover Bucky’s fingers. “It’d be over before you know it, Buck.”From the way Bucky glared at him, it was clear he didn’t share Steve’s belief. He stood up. “I will go with you.”





	[---  -.-]

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theheartbelieves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theheartbelieves/gifts).



> The title is in Morse code.

“You know I wouldn't ask you if it was for me,” said Sam Wilson.

Steve clapped Sam on the shoulder. “Hey, I get it. Frankly, I really rather do this than go on a gazillion talk shows. They never stop asking about that lying fucker.”

Sam chortled. “Yeah, at least you're spared Fox 'News'.” He made the air quotes, somehow tripling the tone of sarcasm. “The brouhaha after you took a knee at the inauguration. Man, if anyone doubted you had balls, you pretty much proved they made of vibranium.”

Blushing and laughing, Steve shoved Sam lightly. “Just did what was right.”

“Not everyone finds that an easy task, Rogers,” Sam said. He then pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “I mean, _him?_ That was the right thing to do, but it ain't easy.”

“No, but the easy thing to do was never an option.” Steve looked past Sam's shoulder to see Bucky deep in conversation with Natasha. “So what's the plan, Sam?”

  
***

 

The plan was for Steve Rogers to be a guest on an HGTV show to help rebuild a community center for veterans with the aid of two of their most popular hosts. This would be part of the Avengers outreach project, to garner goodwill and build good PR. They had partnered with Veterans Affairs, primarily because Steve felt obligated to help his brothers and sisters in arms, and also Tony used to take military contracts and knew many veterans who had used his weapons. Sam and Tony would be going on the talk show circuit because Tony was charming and smooth, and Sam was even smoother, paired with actual combat experience and working with veterans at the VA.

After the debacle that was SHIELD, the Avengers came under tight scrutiny. Pepper Potts waded into the thick of the entire mess and registered the Avengers as a non-profit organization. With the assistance of former agent Hill, the Avengers were beginning to set up representatives in many major cities around the globe.

Wanda and Vision, as the two strongest and least recognized Avengers, had settled in the Middle East. Bruce chose to return to India, but with Tony traveling to the subcontinent often, he was never left alone to brood for long. Clint and Nat moved about as necessary, though most of their time was spent in Europe. Tony, Bucky and Steve stayed stateside, and Sam - who was adamant that he was “not just an Avenger, thank you so much, I have a day job helping people that isn’t all grand gestures and blowing shit up” - popped by frequently to meet up with Steve.

And if Steve was involved, so was Bucky. Not that anyone else called him that. At his request, they called him Barnes. Initially, the relationship between Sam and Bucky was prickly. However, one evening, while the three of them were having dinner at an Ethiopian place in Brooklyn, a loud crash in the kitchen triggered a flashback in Bucky. Sam was the one who got him out of the corner of the restaurant and to put away his two tactical knives without him drawing blood.

Now there was a sort of respect between them. Sometimes, Sam would even lightly tease Bucky, and Bucky would roll his eyes at the man. And they ganged up on Steve. Steve wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth: if his best friend from the past and his best friend from the present could get along, he could take as much ribbing from them as they wanted to dish out.

“How long will this take.” Bucky looked from Sam to Steve to Potts to Hill.

Hill met his gaze. “Eight to twelve weeks, Barnes. In Waco, Texas. I’ll have agents tagged to the region, of course.”

“Eight. To twelve. Weeks.” Bucky had to take a few deep breaths.

Steve reached over to his left to cover Bucky’s fingers. “It’d be over before you know it, Buck.”

From the way Bucky glared at him, it was clear he didn’t share Steve’s belief. He stood up. “I will go with you.”

“What? Bucky, there’s really no need,” Steve said, standing as well. “You’re still readjusting and you _like_ the tower, with Friday to talk to at all hours of the day. I’ll be busy every part of the day and I don’t want you to feel bored-”

“I. Will go. With you.”

“But you said you want to stay in New York-”

“Shut up, punk, I’m going.”

That made the captain go suddenly red and his eyes glistened. Bucky watched him, wary, because Steve sometimes went on these righteous and pious rants about making sure Bucky was safe from Hydra for all time.

Instead, Steve just smiled. It was a shaky, watery smile, but a smile regardless. “Okay, fine.” Then he paused for a breath, and added, “Jerk.”

 

***

 

“I can’t believe this,” Chip said for the seventeenth time since they got in the car. “I cannot believe we are actually meeting _Captain America_. CAPTAIN AMERICA. Steve Freaking Rogers! Babe, how do I look? Do I look presentable? Do I look patriotic enough?”

Joanna laughed. “Chip, I’m driving. I have to keep my eyes on the road. But you looked very handsome this morning when we left the house, and you’ll look very handsome even when you’re next to Captain Steve Freaking Rogers America.”

Chip bounced in his seat. Father of five and still boyish as ever. “Oh man oh man oh man. Jo, I had posters of him on the walls of my dorm room, you know. And Dad gave me his set of the baseball cards. Do you think he’d sign them? Oh no, that will be really tacky and creepy of me, right?”

“No, Chip, that isn’t tacky or creepy, but let’s keep that until much, much later, okay? I’m sure lots of his fans just crowd him all the time to get stuff signed. You know how it’s like when they just barge into our days out with the kids and all. It’s gotta be worse for him.”

Chip wrinkled his nose and settled down a little. “Yeah, that’s not fun.”

Joanna checked the street name before turning down a narrow street. “Look out for 138 Finlay, will you?”

Her husband hummed as he peered at the house numbers and then pointed. “That one. The mid-century ranch.”

“That looks real nice, actually. Is that where he’s staying?” Chip then noticed four agents in identical black suits and shades. “Whoa. Okay, Toto, we are _not_ in Kansas anymore.”

“We aren’t in Kansas in the first place, sweetie.”

“Indulge my pop-culture references now and then, Jo-Jo.”

After she had parked the car, Joanna and Chip strode up to the house. One of the agents, a woman with pulled-back dark brown hair and simple makeup, stepped forward and met them at the middle of the path.

“Good morning,” she said. “Thank you for being punctual. I am Maria Hill, the head of security of Stark Industries, and I represent Ms Virginia Potts and the Avengers in all official capacities while on this project. We are very grateful that you have agreed to come out of your hiatus from appearing on TV to do this.”

Chip appeared rather intimidated, but Joanna merely smiled in her warm, open way, and offered her hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Ms Hill. Chip and I are very honored to have been invited on this project.”

“It was the captain’s idea, really, and please. Call me Maria.” Maria Hill led the way to the house. Instead of fishing out a key, she pressed her palm to a sleek metal plate on the side below the doorbell. The door opened and they walked into a spacious and simply-furnished living room. Joanna took in the airy design with the vaulted ceilings and privately approved of the amount of natural light spilling in. Personally, she would have taken down the wall leading to what she assumed was the kitchen, but not everyone liked open floor plans. There was a delicious scent of cookies or muffins in the air.

Chip stifled a squeak when he saw Steve Rogers emerge from the kitchen, bearing a platter of chocolate chip cookies. The captain brightened upon seeing them and set down the platter on the dining table. His faded blue tee shirt was very tight over his chest, and his dark gray jeans hugged his thighs really well. Chip reminded himself that he was happily married and that he really should not be thinking impure thoughts about Captain America. That could be unpatriotic, or something.

“Hello, you must be Chip and Joanna. Pleasure to meet you.”

While Joanna managed a reasonably restrained greeting, Chip couldn’t help grinning wide enough to split his face. He shook the captain’s hand a little too long, letting go only when his wife finally poked him in the side. The look in Joanna’s eyes told Chip that he was totally busted, but Chip knew she’d understand.

Hill gestured for the couple to precede her into the dining room. The round table and its accompanying chairs were made of a beautiful honey-blonde maple, but the lines were definitely from the sixties. Joanna scanned the space, noting with approval the touches of modernity skilfully blended with the mid-century aesthetics.

Steve Rogers sat down and nudged the cookies towards them. “Hello. I can’t thank you enough for agreeing to this project. I really enjoy your show.”

“Oh my gosh,” Chip whispered, “Captain America likes our show. I can die happy and ascend to heaven right this instant.”

Joanna nudged her star-struck husband in the ribs. “Don’t you dare leave me alone with the kids,” she teased. She grinned at the captain. “He has posters and baseball cards of you, Captain Rogers, so this entire project is quite overwhelming for him. He’s not usually like this.”

Steve chuckled. “It’s okay. I get that a lot. Oh, and just Steve will do.”

“Of course,” Joanna replied with a winning smile. “Shall we begin the briefing?”

Steve held up a hand. “Wait a moment. My friend is also joining us on this renovation.” He turned in his seat and yelled, “Bucky!”

“B-Bucky? As in James ‘Bucky’ Buchanan Barnes?” Joanna gasped and covered her mouth. Her eyes widened comically. “I-I can’t, I didn’t know… I’m not ready for- Eeep!”

She barely managed to stifle her squeal when Bucky came out of the kitchen, his skin and black tank top dusty with flour, and his metal arm on full display. Chip grinned at her and slung an arm over her shoulders.

“Don’t mind her,” he said to the group as Bucky took a seat beside Steve. “She’s just been collecting Sergeant Barnes’ memorabilia forever. It’s overwhelming for her right now.”

His wife glared at him, but since her face was also a bright cherry red, she had no way of refuting that statement.

Bucky glanced at Steve, and then shrugged. “It’s cool.” Then, from seemingly nowhere, he dug out a thin-bladed knife and started digging out bits of cookie dough from the joints of his left arm.

Chip gaped. Joanna turned even redder. Steve merely sighed and took away the knife, reassuring Bucky that he’d help him clean out the arm _after_ the briefing.

Maria Hill looked at all four of them, her amusement evident in her eyes. “Alright, here’s the project details, the budget, and the safety precautions.”

The first two were quite straightforward, but the last bit needed explaining.

“There will be a perimeter set up around the location, monitored by my own people,” said Hill. “Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes will be with the construction crew at all times.”

“We split into two teams though,” said Chip. “I focus on the demolition and reconstruction, she does the design work, and our prep runs concurrently.”

“If need be, we’ll have them both travel to either of you on the days you’re being recorded. Any other questions?”

“How much personal information are you both okay to share? Are there some topics we shouldn't talk about?” Joanna asked. “Because we can get very chatty, but we don't want to upset anyone.”

Almost instantly, Bucky looked at his metal hand. Steve glanced to his left and patted his friend on the knee. “Buck, may I answer for you?”

Bucky squeezed Steve's fingers. _[---  -.-]_

Steve smiled at him and squeezed back, but not in Morse code, before turning to Joanna and Chip.

“Don't ask about his prosthesis or his time as a prisoner-of-war,” he said. “Buck isn't much of a talker these days, to be honest, so I'd do most of the talking.”

Chip and Joanna exchanged a look of understanding. Then Chip leaned against his wife and said, “Well, that's for Sergeant Barnes. What about you, captain? There anything I should not bug you about? Because I can be over-enthusiastic.”

“Please, call me Steve. Uh... I don't like people asking how about the Avengers or about the battles. We're here to help those who are done fighting so I'd really rather focus on them.” Steve smiled his blandest, most courteous smile.

Bucky cleared his throat. “Barnes.”

“Sorry?”

“Call me Barnes,” Bucky said, looking directly at Chip and Joanna. “Don't... don't come up from behind me. Don't try to surprise me.”

Those few lines seemed to sap all his energy and his gaze went to his feet again. Steve sat up in his chair. “So. Shall we?”

 

***

 

It was a simple project, really, but staring at the sad-looking two-story building just made Steve more determined to make sure that they do something right by the veterans. At least the cameras and booms were less intrusive than they usually were - the director and producers assured Steve and Bucky that the camera crew will keep out of the way of the actual construction work.

The crew had been personally and thoroughly vetted by Maria Hill, so Bucky had only bristled a very little bit when the makeup artist (“Call me Gloria good gosh you’re tall and I love that scruff you’re gonna drive ratings through the roof”) was busy fixing Steve’s hair and dusting some powder to keep off the shine. Steve had to keep him from fidgeting by handing over his leather jacket. Bucky flat out refused all makeup.

They did a tour of the place. Structurally, it was still quite sound, but the wallpapers were faded and peeling, and the stairs needed replacing. When they were in the dining room, Steve was fairly sure he could smell mold.

“Right here,” he said, motioning to a patch of yellowing floral wallpaper.

Chip nodded. “Well then, let’s pull this down, see wh-”

Bucky punched into the drywall and pulled it down, revealing the rotten wood behind. It was, indeed, moldy, but it was only a very small patch.

“Holy cow.” If it were possible for a grown man to have stars in his eyes, then Chip certainly had an entire galaxy shining forth in his gaze. “That was incredible.”

Steve grinned. “He also uses it to flip steaks on the grill,” he said, much to the Gaines’ delight.

Bucky rolled his eyes and said, “Shut it, punk. It’s convenient, that’s all.”

“Jerk,” Steve retorted, elbowing his best friend. Then he turned his attention to Chip. “Is this gonna be a problem? I know nothing about construction.”

“You know a lot more about _destruction_ ,” Bucky sniped. “Always knocking holes into the walls. Or breaking things. Even when you were a ninety-pound kid.”

“Hey!” But Steve wasn’t annoyed. He saw the tiny smile lurking on Bucky’s lips and was absurdly happy at being teased. The cameraman stayed on them for a while until Chip started asking about knocking down walls.

“This wall has to go,” Joanna said to the camera. “Then we can have an open plan so there's a good flow from the kitchen to the communal area.”

“No,” Bucky interrupted.

Both Gaines stared at him. Steve's eyebrows climbed into his hairline.

Bucky frowned at all of them. “No polite place to hide.”

Steve then recalled the few dinners with the team he and Bucky had had at Stark's tower. Usually, about three-quarters of an hour into the meal, Bucky would disappear for twenty minutes or more, before returning to the table silently. Steve never asked where he went, only that Friday notify him should Bucky be in any distress. Sometimes it was Rhodes who’d step away, and occasionally Bruce would excuse himself.

“A kitchen is. A good place for people, like me, to withdraw politely. Sometimes we feel overwhelmed at gatherings,” Bucky explained. “If this wall comes down, then they may feel like they're constantly exposed.”

“Oh, okay, I didn't think of that,” said Joanna. She made a note in a little notepad she carried.

Chip frowned at the ceiling. “Hey Cap, do you think you could boost me up? I think there's something wrong right about... there.”

Though it was a rather strange request, Steve did boost Chip up on his shoulders, a process that made Chip giggle like a child. Joanna took a couple of photos, laughing, and even Bucky was smiling broadly. That was worth the silliness, Steve thought, although the water damage and sagging ceiling were not good news.

When Joanna started talking about opening up the space and setting up different seating areas as well as possibly extending the patio, Steve ambled over to stand next to Bucky, so close that he could hear the mechanisms within the left arm. Bucky darted a glance at him, before ducking his head, but Steve already saw the pink of his cheeks.

 

***

 

The next day, while Chip went to sort out permits and work out how many people he needed on the VA job, Joanna took Steve and Bucky out with her in her car. Their security detail drove in front and behind them. Not the full complement today - half the team had been sent to check the community center and sweep it for traps. “So, Steve, Barnes, you’re with me today. I don’t know a lot about what veterans need, so what say you and I go talk to some of them?”

“Uh, talk to… talk to people?” Bucky’s eyes grew wide and almost panicked. He was dressed more like his usual self: a loose dark gray sweater over a black tee shirt and a pair of skinny black jeans, with black boots that looked like weapons in their own right. The sweater had been a gift from Romanov, and he liked how soft it was. It was slightly too warm for a sweater, but this one was comforting, and he needed Comforting Things since he was far away from almost everything he considered home.

Steve rubbed the space between his shoulders. “We could listen to what they want in their community center,” he said.

Bucky relaxed slowly, starting from the point of contact of his best friend’s hand on his back and allowing that sense of calm to radiate outwards. He nodded and tapped on Steve’s arm. 

_[---  -.-]_

“What would you want?” Joanna asked, her warm brown eyes meeting Barnes’ in the mirror. He blinked at her and averted his gaze. “I was thinking about opening up all of upstairs.”

“That sounds good,” said Steve.

“Not all of it,” Bucky interjected. “If I were, uh, if I was. If I’d been triggered, I’d want someplace quiet and private. Gather my composure. After. I mean, maybe like a counselor’s office, or two. For when… when things get stressful.”

Joanna made a sound of agreement. She turned and stopped the car. “Here we are. This is their current center while we renovate the other place.”

“Wait.” Bucky put a hand on her shoulder. The two other cars parked and the security team spilled out. They were all dressed in casual clothes, but their bearing all screamed ‘secret agent’. Bucky suspected that Hill had sent these people to be obvious targets, while the better security team shadowed them from afar. He had gone over their records with Friday, of course, and their records were stellar, but he couldn’t see them protecting Steve or Bucky other than as human shields.

Bucky hadn’t located the shadow team yet. Either they were fantastic at their jobs, or they didn’t exist.

Once the head of the team nodded, Bucky allowed them to leave the car. Steve muttered, “I don’t think we are in any danger, Buck.”

“I think we’re always in danger,” said Bucky. “And since you like to fight bullies, I am more likely to be right than you.”

Joanna walked ahead of them, her ponytail bouncing with each step. A woman opened the door and reached out to Joanna with both arms open for a hug. Joanna grinned and introduced her to the men. “This is Lin. She served in Afghanistan.”

“Good morning Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes,” said Lin. She saluted Steve and Bucky smartly. “1st Lieutenant Sapphire Lin, 503rd Infantry.”

“At ease, soldier,” said Steve with easy grace. He shook her hand. “Anyway, both Bucky and I aren’t the sort to pull rank. We’re just here to help.”

Bucky only nodded at her, his lips pressed into a tight smile. He recognized Lin - not her, per se, but the type of soldier she was. They had served, and they had lost, but they still had a fierce pride in having been part of the armed forces, even if they had received honorable discharges. They were the ones who kept VA programmes going because many of their comrades-in-arms couldn’t. It was obvious that Steve admired their commitment to their brothers and sisters in arms, and Bucky supposed his best friend felt a kinship with them.

Bucky himself could relate better to the other types of veteran: the quiet, withdrawn ones; the ones who no longer believed in the flag and what it stood for; the ones who fought to stay alive because if they didn’t, then their friends who died for them to get home had died for nothing. He didn’t believe that wars were still waged on principles. He had never trusted in any of the propaganda. His reason for fighting was the man in the leather jacket with him. It always had been, even when he was first drafted.

Joanna introduced three others, but Bucky tuned her out in favor of scanning the surroundings. It was a plain office, with the focus on function rather than form, but surely someone could see how flimsy the furniture was and how cramped the filing cabinets made the office. He excused himself from the table in the center, leaving Joanna and Steve to lead the discussions, and took a seat in the corner, next to a water dispenser. It was testament to the fact that everyone in the room - barring Joanna - understood that this was not unusual behavior for veterans that no one remarked upon it.

Steve’s earnest concern was helping him to draw out responses even from the surly-looking one. They talked about the need for counselling rooms, as well as activity rooms, and that explosive sounds such as fireworks often triggered flashbacks

“I guess soundproofing will be essential?” Joanna said.

“Get bulletproof glass too,” Bucky put in from his corner of the room. When six people turned to look at him, he shrugged. “Added sense of security. Also, state of the art security system. Get StarkTech. They're the ones funding this.”

“We ain’t gonna have something all chrome and shiny, are we?” the surly man next to Lin said. “We’re simple folk. We like the traditional style.”

Joanna inclined her head. “That’s what I’m here for, Nathan. I’m all about tradition.”

“Good.” Nathan settled back in his chair. Then, after a pause, he added, “I like the idea of the AI security system though. Be useful especially since we’re gonna have a whole new center. There’d be lots of expensive new things in there. Not sure about the bulletproof glass.”

Jotting a note into her notepad, Joanna sent a quick, bashful smile Bucky’s way. He returned it, but remained in the corner until they were done.

 

***

 

The design plan took less than a week, because Joanna Gaines was a miracle worker, and Chip had the permits granted in record time too. That was probably due to Hill’s intervention. Bucky had texted her to ask for the second, secret team’s portfolios, but she had ignored him pointedly. She literally texted him: **_I am pointedly ignoring you and your earlier message._ **

Then it was what Chip called “Demo Day”. He had sounded extremely excited over the phone call, and Bucky made Steve pull up a few episodes of _Fixer Upper_ to see what the big deal was. It did seem fun, tearing down walls and ripping up floorboards. He was looking forward to using his metal arm as a construction tool.

Once their makeup had been touched up for the camera, Chip and Joanna handed Steve and Bucky hard hats. Bucky stared at it dubiously. “Why are they painted?”

“Well,” said Chip, popping his own and grinning at the camera, “Joanna thought it’d be cool to make you guys personalized hard hats. She got them painted professionally and everything.”

Joanna blushed. “If you don’t want them, I can get the regular ones.”

Steve admired his. It was, essentially, just the pattern of the shield painted on it, but the star was placed right on the front, and the circles radiated from that star. Bucky’s was in silver, with black lines painted along the contours to mimic the pattern of his prosthetic arm.

“Jo Jo painted that one herself,” Chip commented.

His wife looked horrified and embarrassed. “I, uh, I liked the, um. The lines.” She punched her husband's arm. “You didn't have to tell them that!”

Laughing at their antics, Steve put it on and made a face. “I look silly.”

“Better than your usual helmet,” Bucky said. He rolled the hard hat in his hands. It was plastic and there were no restraints. He wouldn’t have to put on the chin strap anyway.

Bucky put it on. Bucky took it off.

With a curt motion, Steve instructed the cameraman to pause the recording and walked his best friend to the side, under the shade of an old oak.

“Too much?” he asked in a low whisper.

Bucky nodded. “Pressure. Wrong places.” He took a deep breath and murmured, “Sorry, Rogers.”

“It’s okay. Tell you what, I’ll wear it and I’ll do the demolition stuff with Chip, and you and Joanna can do all the decorating and designing bits. You were the one who takes care of that back home anyway.”

“But you’ll be here alone,” Bucky protested.

“Hill assigned a dozen of her best for us both. I’ll keep six here with me, and the other six will go with you and Joanna to their office, how about that.”

“No. Twelve here.”

“That’s stupid and condescending. Eight and four.”

Bucky looked like he wanted to argue further, before he rolled his eyes and stalked back to the Gaines. Much to Steve’s annoyance, the camera was still rolling. They weren’t using tape anymore, so that apparently meant have hours of extra footage. The cameraman only shrugged, as if to say, _What can you do to me?_

Joanna appeared stricken and upset. “Was it the design? I messed up, didn’t I? I’m so sorry, Ser- I meant, Mr Barnes, I’ll fix it.”

“No, no, it’s okay.” While it wasn’t evident to other people, Steve knew it was Bucky who made himself smile and touch her elbow. “Joanna. It’s a beautifully painted helmet. I have… issues with my head being constricted in any way. Brings up unpleasant memories. Not your fault.”

Her eyes grew round and she covered her mouth. “Oh. Oh my god. I am so, so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“We’re good.”

The director walked over, cleared her throat and jerked her head at the camera. “Shall we finish up our intro?”

They did this semi-rehearsed chatter thing in front of of the cameras, with Steve obliging by flexing his massive arms and Chip gamely trying to flex also. It would be cute without being too cringe-inducing. Bucky took a picture and sent it to the group chat, and within seconds there were dozens of messages making fun of Steve.

Bucky and Steve then took a photo holding their personalized hard hats with the Gaines on either side of them for news releases and social media. Bucky reminded himself to smile.

“Alrighty, Cap, I mean, Steve, come with me and we are going to have a whale of a time taking down this place,” said Chip with a bright smile. He kissed Joanna on the cheek and headed into the community center.

When Steve picked up his shield and made to follow Chip, Bucky caught hold of the bottom hem of the captain’s white tee shirt. Steve halted in his tracks.

“What is it, Bucky?” he asked quietly.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” said Bucky. He meant, _don’t get hurt. Don’t let there be enemies. I don’t want my irrational worries to become real._

Steve smiled and patted the side of Bucky’s neck fondly. _[---  -.-]_ “How could I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.”

“I’m telling Joanna you said that she was stupid,” Bucky said as he backed away. He even managed a small smile.

“Oh no, you goddamn _jerk_ , don’t you dare!” Steve warned. He appeared like he was about to tackle his friend to the ground to extract a promise when the director called out to Steve and distracted him.

Bucky chuckled and went to Joanna’s car. She was watching him with a look eerily reminiscent of Natasha Romanov when the Black Widow had some intel that the other party needed and didn’t possess. Bucky shifted from foot to foot. “What?”

“You and Steve are adorable together,” she said with a warm smile, and totally dispelled the similarities between her and Romanov.

The Winter Soldier wasn’t supposed to blush, but blush he did. Thankfully, Joanna didn’t say any more than that.

 

***

 

“I really appreciate you coming out here for Demo Day, Captain,” said Chip, putting on his own hard hat.

Steve put his protective goggles on and then set the personalized hard hat atop his head. “I've watched your shows often enough to want to demolish a house with a hammer,” he said. Then he reached down and pulled up a large, round shield. “Of course, the shield is also – hell. I forgot what I was going to say.”

“Cut!”

The cameraman stepped back and rolled his shoulders, and they did a reset of the scene. Steve apologized to Chip. “I never liked doing the reels either, back in the war. Never could say my lines with any conviction.”

“Ha! My granddad thought they were cheesy,” Chip confessed. “His best friend Moses enrolled before he granddad could. Lost one leg and most of his mind when he got back, Granddad says, but by the grace of God, he came back, and my granddad always says a prayer for Papa Moses and his family when we meet up for meals.”

Steve couldn't help the lump in his throat. Perhaps his emotions were evident in his face, because Chip was suddenly flustered and apologetic. “Oh man, sorry Captain, I didn't think – oh my god, Steve, I am so sorry. This is why I need Jojo with me, I put my foot in my mouth _all the time_.”

“No, no, it's okay. I mean, Texas, man. You have hundreds of thousands of vets here. No one really comes back home the same, but, like your granddad says, by the grace of God, they came back.” Steve rubbed the tip of his nose and blew out a long breath. “Let's get demolishing, shall we?”

Demolition was a lot of fun. Steve rammed right through two walls with the shield, while Chip hacked away the stairs. The other crew members helped tear up the warped floors and pull away the kitchen cabinets. In the middle of all the hustle and bustle, Maria Hill showed up, a yellow hard hat perched atop her head.

“Captain Rogers,” she said, because she liked reminding him who was his boss, “Mr Stark says that he will allow us to install a simplified version of Friday as security for this community center.”

“And what does Pepper say?” he asked, because he liked reminding Hill that he and Pepper were good friends.

“Ms Potts told me to say what I just said, because Mr Stark went on a ten-minute rant that isn’t exactly polite. Also, she added that the StarkTech team will be here by tomorrow afternoon and will stay for the week to install everything needed for the simple version of Friday.” Hill smiled like a dagger unsheathing. “Also, please pass this to Barnes later. He needs a hair mask. I’d hand it to him myself but I really don’t want to be where he is right now.”

Chip wandered over as Hill left. “What’s up?”

“The people installing the security system will be here tomorrow afternoon.” Steve looked at the paper bag he had been given. He wasn’t sure if he ought to be concerned. “Where did Joanna take Bucky?”

 

***

 

The camera was rolling when Joanna set out drinks and cupcakes for her guest. Sergeant Barnes was a quiet man, and there was a haunted look in his eyes. Joanna had seen that look in some veterans' faces: the shadow of fear that lurked behind the placid expression. She had seen it in her own face sometimes whenever she came across news of school shootings.

For some reason, the kids adored the sergeant, and he was surprisingly patient with them. Drake and Ella Rose were fascinated by Barnes' metal arm, and much to Joanna's surprise, Barnes was willing to let them prod at it. He even adjusted it so Drake could peer inside at the mechanisms. Ella was more curious about the way the metal plates shifted and slid with his motions. Emmie climbed right into the sergeant's lap and crowned him with a chain of daisies she had been making with Ella earlier that morning. Duke was the only shy one, but he was holding onto his own Bucky Bear replica as he hung about near Joanna and blushing whenever he saw Barnes looking at him. Crew was still too small to do anything other than stare at the reflections of light off Barnes’ arm, but he giggled whenever the man moved his prosthetic and made the lights dance.

Joanna shooed the children away once she had her files ready, handing Crew over to Drake. Barnes smiled as he adjusted the flower crown, and what a wonder that smile was, softening all his edges and chasing away that lurking darkness in his eyes.

The goats refused to leave them alone, however. One of them, whom Joanna had mentally named her Evil Bertha, because she always found a way to eat Joanna’s best plants and get mud on the clean sheets when they were hung out to dry in the sun, even laid her hairy head on Barnes’ knees. The kids bounded around, full of restless baby-animal energy.

“You're good with kids,” Joanna remarked. “Not the goat kids. Actual human kids.”

“I like them,” said Barnes, his gaze focused on Evil Bertha as he petted her. That treacherous creature baa-ed softly, as if it wasn’t Satan’s minion sent to torment Joanna. “I used to play with my baby sister.” The smile wilted a little. “I got to meet one of my grandnieces last month. She had… she had Rebecca’s nose and dimples.”

“I’m glad you had the opportunity to meet her.” Joanna shook her dark hair over her shoulder and angled the laptop to face him. “So this is the design that I came up with after the meeting. I'm thinking that we ought to include one more bathroom down the hallway. One bathroom isn't enough.”

Barnes nodded along to her suggestions as she went on. “That color – could you switch to a very pale, neutral gray? Or a eggshell white?”

“Neutral gray or cool eggshell white?”

“Baaaaaa.” Evil Bertha nudged Barnes when he stopped petting her head.

Joanna narrowed her eyes at the animal.

“Yeah. I mean, the row of windows here. They face the lake,” said Barnes, resuming his gentle stroking of the goat. “The light that comes off it was can be glaring. Worse in summer. Having cooler colors will enhance calm. Are winters here cold?”

“Fairly mild, so using cooler hues will certainly help.” Joanna was pleasantly surprised. “You enjoy interior decorating?”

“I like... I like color. And soft textures.” He shifted, and the metal arm clicked. “When I was... away, I didn’t… Everything was about function. Utility. Everything was hard, or sharp, or rough. I forgot what warm and soft meant until I got back.”

There was so much loss in his voice that he sounded far younger than he was. Without thinking, Joanna reached across the wooden table to cover Barnes' flesh hand. The sergeant flinched. Evil Bertha baa-ed again, chiding Joanna, who quickly pulled away.

“Sorry,” said Barnes. His smile was very shaky and he ducked behind his curtain of hair.

“I'm the one who should apologize,” said Joanna. “I'm sorry. Let's take a cupcake break, shall we?”

He nodded, unable to speak. Joanna then handed out cupcakes to everyone while Barnes recovered some equilibrium.

Cupcake breaks were fantastic.

Cookie breaks were better.

 

***

 

“Hair mask.” Bucky was beaming. He was shirtless, his hair was covered with sweet-smelling goop, and he had on a plastic shower cap over his head. “I will text my thanks to Hill later.”

Steve sighed as he cleaned out the joints of Bucky’s metal prosthesis. “I thought you were there to discuss design and all that. How did that translate into cookie dough in your arm?”

“We made cookies. You ate them.”

“You usually wear gloves though.”

“Joanna didn’t have gloves my size,” said Bucky. He smiled and ducked his head. “I like her.”

Steve couldn’t help flicking Bucky in the cheek. “She’s married.”

Bucky glared at the blond, but it was a half-hearted attempt. “Not like that. I just like… Being around her feels easy. Calming. Like sitting on the grass in the sun at Central Park while you are running.”

“That’s very specific.”

The other man stared at his free hand, which was holding the white plastic jar for the hair mask. Steve glanced at it; he’d been very amused when he saw that the name was _Don’t Despair, Repair!_ Bucky had laughed at it too, the quiet, self-effacing laugh that always made Steve feel warm all the way to his toes.

“Being specific helps me focus on what is real,” Bucky said at last. “Sometimes. Some nights, I forget. Because it’s so good now, and safe, and there’s you. They used to test hallucinogens.”

The brunet’s metal arm whirred and tensed. Steve put a hand on Bucky’s right knee. “You don’t have to share if you don’t want to.”

Bucky covered Steve’s hand and squeezed. _[---  -.-]_

They made a funny picture together, the captain sitting on the floor in goofy pajama pants with a pattern of teacups and teapots, his best friend in a plastic shower cap, seated on the sofa with his metal arm in Steve’s right hand. Steve wouldn’t change a thing about this.

“They made me a guinea pig for poisons also.” The words poured out in a rush. Bucky closed his stormy eyes and breathed evenly. “Hallucinogens. Sometimes. I thought you were there. With me. Those were the worst. Because the drugs wore off and. And you weren’t there. And they’d make me report everything.” His voice grew rougher by the second. “At first… at first I could. Lie. Pretend I didn’t see. That I didn’t see you. But it got harder when they added other drugs. They knew you were important to me. Are important to me.”

Steve had to fight to keep his voice from trembling. “As are you, Buck. You have always been.”

“They tried to wipe you out of my head. The stronger drugs did, and then. And then, the chair. My memory’s been fucked up since. Some things, I don’t know if they happened. When you were found again,” Bucky went on, “they tested the drugs on me once more. New ones. More powerful. I saw many… many things. Things I did in the past. But you were not in my head. I know now that… that I didn’t remember you. That’s why they sent me out. They believed I had forgotten you.”

Taking a long, shaky breath, Steve pressed his forehead to his best friend’s. “They were wrong. You proved them wrong”

Bucky just closed his eyes. A soft whimper crept out of his throat.A glimmer of wetness formed on his long lashes. Steve brushed his thumbs over Bucky’s eyelids and cradled his face, breathing in Bucky’s breaths, and wished once again he could erase every bad thing that had ever happened to his best friend.

 

***

 

Once Chip’s crew was in full swing, Steve and Bucky got roped into choosing colors and materials over at Joanna’s office. Steve liked the airy yet welcoming space; Bucky muttered something incomprehensible about goats. Joanna set out yards of fabric, paint samples, and tiles on a large wooden table and asked them for opinions. While Bucky was reticent at first, he soon got into deciding on color and materials, while Steve focused on textures and patterns.

“When I was younger, before the serum,” the captain explained, “I was colorblind. Bucky was the one who translated colors into meaning for me. He learned to appreciate them and, back when we were kids, he could describe the different shades of red on a rose. The serum corrected the colorblind vision but I’ve always thought of color in the way Bucky phrased them.”

Joanna smiled warmly. “That is a lovely memory, Steve.”

“I don’t remember doing that,” Bucky said, almost to himself.

To Steve, that statement felt like a needle in his heart. He was used to it, of course; much of Bucky’s memories were jumbled up or lost because Hydra was a brutal, cruel organization which didn’t know the value of the treasure they had. Steve didn’t enjoy killing, but he didn’t regret a single Hydra operative that died by his hand.

Served them right.

“Well,” he said, to fill in the silence that fell after Bucky’s comment, “he’d say something like, this gray is the color of our socks after a dozen washes. Or he’d say, this is pale pink, and it’s the shade of my mother’s lips when she kissed me on the forehead.”

“And that blue-gray is the shade of your eyes on an overcast day,” said Bucky, his finger prodding a tile that was suggested as a possible backsplash.

Steve’s breath caught in his throat. Then he smiled widely, holding back the treacherous prickle of tears in the corners of his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, you’d say stuff like that. You stopped after Assa- After… after you knew I could see color.”

Bucky ducked his head beneath his baseball hat, shy and speechless. He probably caught Steve’s slip of the tongue, but today was not one of those days when he’d react badly to ‘Assano’. Instead of responding to him, he nudged that blue-gray tile to Joanna. “That’s the one that should go in the kitchenette on the second floor.”

She beamed at them both, then winked at Steve when Bucky turned away to flip through the fabric samples.

 

***

 

Being super strong also meant being used as pack labor. Joanna set them to hauling heavy wooden planks out of her warehouse and load them onto her pickup.

“Where are we taking these?” Steve asked. He was struggling to fit the shield into the passenger seat, so Bucky nudged him to take the back instead.

“To my friend, Clint. I’m having him make a few tables and open shelves. These planks were salvaged from a rail yard run by a veteran of the Korean War.” Her expression grew pensive. “My dad was stationed in Korea where he met my mom. It’s really sweet that they fell in love and got together, but sometimes I think of all those who died there, or those who came back only part of whom they used to be… And all for some ideology. I’m not, I don’t know, smart, politically, but God made us all in His image, and that to me just says we shouldn’t be trying to kill one another.”

Bucky and Steve exchanged a glance through the rear view mirror. Steve cleared his throat. “You’re a wise woman, Mrs Gaines.”

“Not really. I’m just a mother.” She laughed, shaking her head and then tucking a few errant strands of hair behind her ears. “I don’t want my kids growing up in a world that values death and hatred more than life and love.”

Steve looked at the side of Bucky’s face again, unsure of how to continue. Somehow his hesitation conveyed itself to his best friend. Bucky licked his chapped lips, as if thinking, and then asked, “What do your children like, Joanna? Do they, uh, do they have a favorite Avenger?”

“Well, with their parents being _huge_ fans…” Joanna started talking about her children and why they liked certain Avengers. Steve squeezed Bucky’s right shoulder in thanks.

The drive to her friend’s was filled with more frivolous chatter. Steve inadvertently revealed that the only thing he could bake was apple pie, and Joanna elicited a promise from Captain America himself to bake one for the reveal. Steve would feel slightly embarrassed except Bucky was giggling into his hoodie sleeve, and it was worth all his discomfort.

Until they turned the corner and saw a man with a gun aimed at a lanky, sandy-haired man. Three others stood in the road, with machine guns pointed directly at Joanna’s pickup truck.

Joanna slammed on the brakes. Her eyes were wide open. “Clint,” she breathed, just before Bucky threw his left arm out in front of her face and shoved her down. Steve was already out the door, his shield protecting him from the gunfire.

“Stay down, cover your head,” he shouted at Joanna. “Bucky!”

Steve still didn’t like guns. He knew that they were sometimes necessary, especially in the wilder regions, but they also reminded him of the men he couldn’t save in the war and the civilians who died because some fucked-up asshole decided that shooting people was a solution. Flinging his shield out, he nearly took off the arm of the gunman aiming at the guy Joanna had called Clint, and immediately dropped and rolled to avoid a spray of semi-automatic gunfire.

There was no second burst of bullets. The three men in the road toppled over, each with a throwing knife embedded in their face or neck. Bucky climbed out of the pickup truck, the shy smile earlier replaced with a brittle, vicious glower, and shot the man who had pointed a gun at Clint right between the eyes. His eyes kept darting around as he shrugged out of his ripped-up gray hoodie to free his metal arm. This was the Winter Soldier.

Nodding at Bucky to do a perimeter sweep, knowing that his friend would take care of any other agents out to ambush them, Steve grabbed his shield and walked back to the truck.

“Get out of the vehicle, Joanna,” he instructed, in full Captain America mode. “Come on, it’s not safe here, we’re too much in the open.”

Joanna crept out from the driver’s seat and sprinted towards Clint. They hugged and Clint thanked Steve profusely. “I don’t know who they are. They just showed up and asked if the captain was coming by today. I told them I didn’t know. Then they dragged me out there and told me to pray that you show up.”

Steve exhaled. It was too much to hope that evildoers would leave him alone to do some good, of course. He texted Hill and also fired a message to Sam.

“Will Chip be safe?” Joanna grabbed his forearm, her face pale. “Are they also in danger?”

Steve’s phone chirped. “Hill said they’ve dealt with it. And her best agents are at the school.”

“You mean-” Joanna looked very young and frightened all of a sudden. Clint hugged her around the shoulders and let her bury her face in his shirt.

“I’m sorry,” said Steve quietly. “We thought we could help.”

It was the hint of movement out of the corner of his eye that had Steve shoved Clint and Joanna down and throw up his shield just in time. Then the sickeningly familiar metallic impact of bullets hitting the vibranium shield rang out, non-stop. Joanna stifled a whimper and Clint sheltered her with his own body - _a decent man,_ Steve thought in an aside - but Steve couldn’t risk leaving them here while he dealt with the shooter. Surely the magazine would run out soon?

Then the three of them heard a scream that was cut off.

Steve peered under the shield and then unfolded. Bucky had returned, holding a Glock in his hand. He helped Clint to his feet, and then Joanna. “They’re not Hydra. Local Nazis.”

“Nazis?” Clint was frightened now. “I didn’t think we had Nazis here.”

“No one ever does,” Bucky said.

“Oh my god,” Joanna whispered. She appeared quite green in the face. “Did you - did you _stake_ that man through his chest?”

Clint gulped. “Maybe they can do a reboot. Bucky the Vampire Slayer.”

Joanna burst into tears, chuckling and sobbing at the same time. It clearly was overwhelming for her to be faced with the reality of working with Captain America.

Steve tugged on Bucky’s elbow, pulling him aside. “Were they civilians?”

“Could be. The other two waiting in the car round the back had these.” Bucky pulled out two palm-sized badges. An SS logo leered up at them from each of the badges. When he flipped one of the badges over, it was a Hydra insignia. “Our old friends are back. My guess is that they infiltrated a white supremacist group - not that they are all that discerning - and converted them to the Hydra cause.”

When he was in mission mode, Bucky was all business. There were no pauses to mull over his words, no emotional reactions. One shot, one kill. It was as though he put on the Winter Soldier like a suit.

It made Steve frightened, sometimes; he worried that his Bucky would be trapped in the Winter Soldier persona. All the progress they made… The Winter Soldier was an asset to the Avengers. But James ‘Bucky’ Barnes was his friend.

“Those in the car - did you…”

“They’re alive, Steve. I locked them in the trunk.”

“Both of them?”

“If they didn’t want to suffocate to death, they shouldn’t have tried to kill you.” A ghost of a smirk flitted over Bucky’s lips, which he then licked before adding, “Relax. Hill is already sending agents to get them.”

 

***

 

They gathered back on Magnolia Farm. The children were all in their rooms, with Drake tasked to ensure his siblings completed homework. Chip was uncharacteristically stoic. When Joanna saw him earlier, she had run immediately to her husband who gathered her into his beefy arms and wrapped her into a tight embrace. Now they sat together on the sofa hand in hand, Joanna still pale and shaken. Bucky wished he could reassure them, but he was never good with words on such occasions.

Other than the Gaines, Clint Harp, Maria Hill, Steve, and Bucky, there were three other people. They were obviously SHIELD agents, and Steve was staring daggers at one of them. The one being stared at appeared to be a mild-mannered, middle-aged man. Bucky thought that the man’s arm seemed wrong.

“Fury told me you were dead, Coulson,” Steve gritted out.

“Reports of my demise were greatly exaggerated,” said Coulson with a bland smile. The smile faded at the edges and he looked at the badges Bucky handed him. “Thank you, Sergeant Barnes. I’ve already asked FitzSimmons to monitor the situation.”

“Who’s FitzSimmons?” Bucky glanced at Hill.

She almost smiled. “They are exceedingly reliable and capable.”

“I want to meet them.”

“We will schedule a meeting after this.”

Chip cleared his throat. He was not smiling at all. “We were told that there were no Hydra cells around here, and that you will guarantee our safety. You promised our family that this would be safe.” He leaned forward. His voice was low and angry, entirely opposite to his usual self. “My wife and my friend were nearly killed. I had to get my kids out of school because someone might shoot them. A shooting. At school. Have you any kids? Any of you? Because the fifteen minutes from the site to their school was an eternity I have no intention of reliving.”

“Mr Gaines-”

“No, listen. I’m not angry that it happened, okay? Jo-Jo and I did discuss this. We knew it was likely. Were we mentally prepared? Hell no. But I am angry about something else.” He took a deep breath. “I’m angry that protection for my family and my friends and my subcontractors weren’t already in place. I am angry that Nazi scumbags are here in my neighborhood, threatening people I love. I am angry that you are insisting that we keep this quiet, because I want them _gone_ , okay? I want to sleep easy at night.”

Hill leaned forward, mimicking Chip’s posture. “Mr Gaines, we did set up a security protocol. My error was in thinking that it would be trained Hydra operatives. We were not expecting them to have radicalized civilians into doing this.”

“Then why are we not revealing this to the world yet?” Clint Harp asked.

Hill’s eyes flickered to Steve and Bucky. “Until we complete the project, we shouldn’t confirm where Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes are.”

Bucky had remained still throughout the discussion. Finally, he said, “So what’s the plan then?”

Hill glanced at Coulson, who took over without missing a beat. “SHIELD is still operating, albeit with a lot fewer resources. Agent Johnson will be attached to Mr Harp, and Agent May will be dealing with the Nazis.”

Agent May reminded Bucky of Romanov, though with a harder, more brittle edge, like a blade chipped from stone. The Chinese woman met his assessing gaze coolly. On a different day, he would love to spar with her.

“Bucky and I will feel a lot better if you could let us stay here for the next few nights,” Steve said. “We can take shifts and keep watch.”

Chip stared at the captain. “But - I mean, are you sure? Because… Look, I was upset, but I know it’s not your fault…”

“It’s easier for us,” Bucky cut in. “Coulson, Hill, you stay in the quinjet outside. Keep it on stealth mode.”

Coulson was agape. “How did you know?”

“Field is large enough. The goats were avoiding it.” Bucky turned to regard the Gaines. “We feel bad. About. About having scared you. Let us make amends.”

Johnson, a young woman who looked like she could be Coulson and May’s daughter, turned on a tablet that looked a lot like StarkTech. “Coulson, FitzSimmons says they have eyes on the leader of the cell. Pinged the database. Do you want containment or elimination?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. Coulson stood. “Sergeant, if you don’t mind coming with us?”

“Steve?”

Steve nodded. “I’ll stay here with Hill.” He grabbed Bucky’s hand and waited. “Don’t be too trigger-happy, jerk.” _Be careful. Don’t lose yourself._

“Punk,” said Bucky, and squeezed his friend’s fingers. _[---  -.-]_

 

***

 

May was as ruthless as Bucky himself, while Johnson was able to direct seismic waves in narrow bands at their opponents. It was almost as fun as fighting alongside Steve. Unlike the five civilian terrorists that had waited at Clint Harp’s, the two dozen in the warehouse FitzSimmons found - seriously, why do these evil henchmen always choose warehouses? - were all trained Hydra operatives.

From what he observed, May preferred hand-to-hand. More accurately, hand-to-whatever vulnerable part she could strike and destroy. Johnson “Call me Daisy, please, you’re like an actual Avenger and I am in awe, okay I’m shutting up now” had a certain grace to her motions, and it was clear May had trained her, but she too often missed opportunities to incapacitate. Her fights were twice as long as they needed to be. Bucky knew he could disable Johnson within ten moves. With May… it could go either way, depending on whether she could avoid taking damage from his metal arm.

Also, he found out that FitzSimmons were Fitz and Simmons, two intimidatingly intelligent young scientists who were head over heels in love with each other. They were sweet. Fitz made a strange squeaking sound when he first saw Bucky, and Simmons explained that it was because Fitz had always wanted to know how the arm worked. Bucky told them to get in touch with Tony Stark or with Shuri, in Wakanda, if they could.

Bucky was peeved about having to use the tranq gun (“It’s the Night-Night gun!” Simmons had declared, and Fitz had just rolled his eyes fondly). Nazis and Hydra deserved death, in his opinion, though he was somewhat biased. Seventy years of being abused and dehumanized tended to do that to people.

“What about the white supremacists?” asked Johnson, while other agents loaded the restrained and unconscious Hydra agents into an armored truck, piling them on top of one another with little concern. “We can’t kill them. Other than the three who are already dead.”

May scoffed. “If you ask me…”

“No, May, we don’t kill civilians, even if they are supporters of fascism.” Coulson winced when he saw the damage inside the warehouse. “At least you didn’t break anything structural.”

“I can infiltrate the group,” said Fitz quietly. When they all stared at him, he added, “Not all neo-Nazis resemble rednecks now. I can join them, and use them to locate the other groups, track all of them in order to disable any possible plot before it happens.”

Simmons laid her hand on Fitz’s elbow. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” Fitz’s lips curved in a humorless smile. “I _did_ head Hydra, after all.”

Bucky frowned. Was SHIELD still compromised? Or had Fitz defected? He had never heard of Fitz before, and that name wasn’t in the files Romanov dumped online.

Coulson must have seen his confusion. “Alternate reality. Long story.”

“A robot with AI gained sentience through a magical construct and wanted to be a real person so she enslaved my mind and created a virtual world where Hydra won and I was in charge in order for me to fall in love with her instead of Simmons just so I would build her a physical human body.” Fitz looked at his hands and rubbed his fingertips together.

“Apparently not quite that long,” said Coulson.

Bucky only stared. Then he nodded. “Don’t lose yourself.”

Fitz’s head jerked up.

Bucky didn’t avert his eyes. “People don’t know. It is really easy to forget who you are.”

“How did you remember?” the young man asked.

“I remembered Steve.” He ignored the way they looked at him and returned the tranq gun to Fitz. “I want to get back to him. With their base destroyed, we should have some breathing space. To finish that community center.”

 

***

 

The SHIELD team returned to the quinjet. Steve hugged Bucky when he got into the house, Joanna and the kids were busy in the kitchen, and Chip showed him where the guest bedroom and ensuite were. Bucky scrubbed himself clean, getting rid of gunpowder residue and the stench of Hydra.

When he emerged, wrapped only in a towel, he saw Steve with clothes in his hands. One maroon shirt looked familiar. “Are those. Mine.”

“Uh, yeah,” said Steve. For some reason, his cheeks and the tips of his ears were bright pink. “I was… Maria went to get some of our clothes and, uh, I didn’t think you knew where they were, so I. Um. Here.”

“Thanks.” Bucky took the garments and draped the towel around his hips over a nearby chair.

Steve made a strange sound and exited the room. Bucky wondered why his best friend’s neck was red. Maybe he had helped feed the animals just now and he got badly sunburned. But the serum should have sorted that out.

Then again, Steven Grant Rogers was often a baffling, if endearing, blond enigma.

 

***

 

Dinner was fun, if rather tense, because the younger children asked why they had been taken out of school early that day. Chip made up some story about having needed their help to prepare the guest room for Steve and Bucky, and then Joanna skilfully diverted the conversation to the two Avengers’ hobbies.

“I like baseball,” Steve admitted.

Duke perked up. “I love baseball!” he announced and took Steve’s hand. “Wanna see your fastball, Steve!”

Joanna grabbed hold of her boy’s arm. “Not until after dinner, and we have chocolate oatmeal cookies for dessert too.”

Chip faux-whispered, “No fastballs, Captain. Hard to find in the dark.”

They ended up having their cookies on the deck. Bucky and the girls sat on the edge, the children kicking off their shoes and stretching out their toes. Joanna reclined on the step, leaning against the railing, with baby Crew in her arms. Steve and Chip tossed baseballs for the boys to catch, with Steve pretending to wind up for fastballs or curveballs.

“Do you like baseball?” Emmie Kay asked, when her older sister excused herself to the bathroom.

Bucky shrugged. “I think I used to.”

“You think? Don’t you know?”

“Emmie,” Joanna chided gently.

Bucky shook his head and tucked his hair back behind his ear. “I was… not treated well, for a long time,” he said, weighing his words. “The bad guys. They hurt my brain and made me forget things.”

“Oh,” said Emmie Kay. Then she sidled closer to Bucky and whispered, “Is your brain still hurting?”

“No, it’s not.” Bucky smiled at her. She reminded him of someone, a long time ago, but he didn’t dare reach for the memory. “Steve helped me get better. He’s still helping me get better. When I am around him, I can sometimes remember what I was like. Before. I am fairly sure I used to like baseball.”

The girl stared at Steve, now being chased by Drake and Duke. “He’s a hero, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he is.”

“I’m glad he’s helping you.”

“Me too, Emmie Kay.”

Then the girl smiled at him shyly. “I’m sorry I was rude.”

Bucky shook his head again. “You weren’t.”

It was lovely watching Steve play under the stars, and for there to be no sound other than the laughter of the children and Chip pretending to be a game announcer. Bucky could almost forget the quinjet lurking out in the shadows.

Emmie Kay got up and ran inside the house. Joanna jiggled baby Crew and chuckled when the infant stuck out his tongue.

Steve then got into teaching the children some basic self-defense moves, with Chip being his willing volunteer for demonstration. No throws or flips, just how to punch or kick someone in order to incapacitate them long enough to run away and call for help.

He was so intent on watching how Steve showed Ella Rose the right way to break a nose with elbow that he was startled by a rainbow-colored hair tie dangled in front of his face. At least he didn’t try to strike out at an imagined assailant, because when he twisted around, it was Emmie Kay with a broad grin.

“That’s my favorite,” Emmie Kay confided. “It reminds me of my favorite things. I hope it helps you too.”

Bucky undid his hair bun and used the new hair tie to secure his hair. “I think it will.”

He was further surprised when Emmie Kay pressed a soft kiss to the center of his forehead. The girl hopped off the back porch to join her siblings in learning the self-defense moves.

Joanna laughed at Bucky’s expression. “She’s always been the one most sensitive to moods,” said the young woman.

“Your family is very nice,” he told her, knowing that he lacked the words to accurately convey how much he liked their serenity and joy.

“After today’s scare, I’m even more appreciative,” she said, her gaze taking in the scene before them. “When we were being shot at, all I could think of were the kids and Chip. And I knew I couldn’t allow myself to die.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You aren’t them.” Joanna shifted the baby, who was already drowsing. “You saved Clint and me. Granted, I’m probably going to see that corpse for a long time in my dreams, but... “ She bit her lower lip. “Dad was in the Korean War. He always said that, in war, it was either them or you, and if you wanted to stay alive long enough to get home, you had to be ready to kill them.”

Bucky observed the stars overhead. “Taking a life is one of the easiest things to do, and one of the hardest experiences to live with.”

“How do you live with it?”

“My memory was wiped at the start and at the end of every mission. There was no chance of me remembering my missions. But in the war, before. Before Captain America showed up. I had to protect my men. So I killed, young men who were much like us, except they were fighting for an evil man. Because their environment was such that they had little reason to go against indoctrination.” Bucky’s flesh hand twitched. “They probably said the same thing about us.”

“Probably.” Joanna sighed. The baby fussed and she cooed nonsense at him.

“I like your home.” Bucky stared at his mismatched hands. “You and Chip built it together.”

“Yes, we did. It was a labor of love, but it’s worth all the blood, sweat and tears. Sometimes, when I’m completely exhausted with work, I look at my home and think, ‘We made this for our family to be happy.’ And that keeps me going.”

“We’ll make sure your home and your family will be safe.”

Joanna smiled at him, then set baby Crew in Bucky’s lap. The baby was fragile and defenseless. What was she thinking, putting a baby in a killer’s arms? The baby chewed on his hand, slobbering all over it, and then gurgled happily.

“He wants you to bounce him,” said Joanna.

Bucky bounced him, very gingerly. Baby Crew giggled and laughed, waving his drool-covered hand in the air.

Finally she took her baby back. “I know you’ll keep us safe,” she said. “We trust you.”

They sat out under the starry sky for almost an hour before Joanna shooed all the kids to bed. The parents went to tuck their children in, while Steve and Bucky did a cursory sweep, Steve closer to the house and Bucky further out. Coulson had left them comm units. Bucky kept his in his left pocket.

After about twenty minutes, they had circled back to the backyard. Chip jogged out of the kitchen with three unopened beers.

Steve wrinkled his nose ruefully. “Can’t even get buzzed on these.”

“Neither will I, not with just one beer,” said Chip. “Still, it tastes nice, and I just thought it’d be cool to hang out with my childhood heroes.”

“Where’s Joanna?” Bucky asked.

“I see how it is,” Chip said, pretending to pout. “You’re here because you love my wife.” Then he grinned. “Nothing to be ashamed about. Everyone loves my wife.”

Steve laughed, and Bucky ducked his head, abashed. The two enhanced soldiers took the beers and Bucky popped the cap off with his metal hand for all of them. A quick sniff and taste test assured him that the drink was not poisoned.

“Did you know?” he asked Chip.

“Know what?”

“That you wanted to marry her.”

Tilting his head back, Chip tapped the mouth of the beer bottle against his stubbled chin. Finally he said, “I didn’t know for sure, but I knew I wanted to make her happy. And that was all I wanted, every time I saw her, and when I wasn’t with her I was thinking about her, and what I could do to make her smile or laugh. I want to be good enough to deserve her.”

Bucky fell silent and stared at his feet. Steve then asked Chip how he got Joanna to go out with him. The contractor started regaling them with stories of how he met Joanna and how he wooed her, replete with funny asides about his own antics. Bucky didn’t quite understand why Chip was talking to them like they were friends, but when he noticed the tension in the man’s shoulders ebbing away, he realized that it wasn’t about him or Steve. Chip Gaines took pride in being a father and a husband, but he could have lost his children and his wife today, and there was nothing he could have done about it. He was unwinding, seeking emotional shelter in how he formed his family. His real friends weren’t there, and he wasn’t going to tell his wife how frightened he must have been.

Bucky sort of understood. Every time Steve got hurt, every time Steve faced seemingly insurmountable odds, Bucky would be afraid. Fear of Steve not coming home. Fear that Steve would change his mind about having Bucky near him to protect him.

Hell, Bucky ventured all the way to Waco, Texas, just to keep an eye on Steve Rogers.

He kept his flesh hand over Steve’s hand. His best friend’s hand was warm. Bucky thought that Steve used to have cold hands when he was smaller.

“Cold as ice,” Steve murmured. Apparently Bucky had spoken aloud.

When Chip finished his drink, he stood up and dusted his hands off on his jeans. “Thanks, guys,” he said in a somber tone, entirely at odds with his casual demeanor a few minutes ago. “No offense meant, but I really want this project to be over. Part of me wishes I hadn’t agreed to it, but the veterans deserve something good, and I really wanted to meet you guys.”

“I know what you mean, and no offense taken,” said Steve. He squeezed Bucky’s knee. “Let’s turn in.”

 

***

 

Bucky was better at determining if he was in a dream or in a memory. This was a dream, because he had an ice cream cone in his left hand, and he was holding a Steve the size of the ice cream cone in his right hand. He hadn’t eaten ice cream for over a week.

“Do you ever wish you hadn’t taken the serum?” Bucky licked the ice cream. He couldn’t tell what it tasted like, except that it was nice.

Tiny Steve frowned. “If I hadn’t, you’d never have remembered who you are.” His voice was exactly the same as when he was regular-sized. However, this was a dream, so Bucky ignored the illogical aspect of it.

Bucky put Steve on his shoulder where he started braiding Bucky’s hair. The sensation of his fingers combing through his tresses was exceedingly soothing.

“Do you ever wish I hadn’t taken the serum?” Steve asked, leaning on Bucky’s ear and tugging his earlobe. “Bucky?”

“No,” said Bucky.

“Bucky.” Now Steve’s voice was louder and right in front of him. “Bucky, wake up.”

Bucky opened his eyes and blinked. In the near-complete darkness, he made out Steve leaning over him, a hand shaking his left shoulder.

“Hey,” said the blond man. “Sorry to wake you, but you said that if I didn’t, you’d tell Sam how I was babying you.”

Sitting up, Bucky shook his head free of the vestiges of the dream. “Time?”

“Four.”

Bucky had fallen asleep approximately four hours ago then. He swung his legs off the bed, his knees crashing into Steve’s by accident and Steve stumbled forward, avoiding a fall only by slapping his other hand on the headboard and Bucky catching him around the middle.

“Sorry,” said Bucky, his hands on Steve’s waist. They stared at each other. They were very close again, and now Bucky could feel his best friend’s breath on his own mouth. There was hardly any distance between them. Feeling quite flustered, he blurted, “I dreamed about you. Earlier. When you woke me up.”

“Oh?” Steve wasn’t moving closer, but he wasn’t moving away either. “What were we doing?”

“I was eating ice cream,” Bucky said softly. He didn’t know why he was whispering; something about Steve’s proximity and the way he was looking at Bucky was making his pulse pick up. “And you were - you were tiny. I put you on my shoulder and you. You braided my hair. And pulled my earlobe.”

Steve’s grin was infectious, even if it was only partly visible in the low light. “Let’s do that when we go home.”

“Will you?” Bucky hadn’t intended to sound breathless.

“Of course.”

He could feel Steve’s _eyelashes_ , they were so close. And he was not entirely sure he was awake, which probably explained why he said what he said next.

“I want to deserve you,” he whispered. “To be good enough for you.”

“You’re more than good enough.” He could hear Steve swallow. Then Steve murmured, “I want to make you smile. Every day, I want to bring a smile to your face.”

Bucky didn’t know who closed the gap between them, but suddenly they were kissing, and Bucky thought he was possibly dreaming, except he couldn’t have dreamed about the softness of Steve’s lips, or the yielding, wet heat of his mouth.

With some difficulty, Steve pulled away. He was breathing quite heavily. Resting his forehead against Bucky’s brow, he said, “We will talk more about this after the project is done. When we get back home.”

 _Right. The protection detail._ Bucky nudged Steve in the belly. “Go back to bed. My turn to patrol.”

 

***

 

The next few days were quiet. Now and then Coulson would send them a status update, noting there were some grumbles about the Avengers setting up shop, but they were otherwise left alone.

On Saturday, Joanna and Chip took all the children along with Steve and Bucky on a hunt for antiques. Emmie Kay seemed to have adopted Bucky, because she clung to him by his metal arm and was tickled pink when he let her swing from it like a tree branch. Duke, meanwhile, latched onto Steve. Chip complained good-naturedly that he had been abandoned.

They found an antique shop that sold military paraphernalia. Jerry cans, mess tins, old medals… Drake found a set of WWII posters with Captain America front and center, and that led to everyone teasing Steve. They bought four of the posters, and the shopkeeper asked Steve to sign a set of baseball cards.

“My personal collection,” said the shopkeeper. “That’s a twenty percent discount for everything you’re buying, Jo.”

“That’s awesome! What’s the occasion?”

“You brought Captain America here to my shop! That’s definitely worth a discount.”

At this point Emmie Kay squealed sharply. “That’s Bucky Bear!”

Bucky blinked. Indeed, there was a teddy bear in an outfit that resembled his uniform back in the war. Steve was delighted.

“I need this,” he told Joanna.

Joanna nodded sagely. “Best bedtime buddy in the world.”

They all took photos with the shopkeeper. Steve held Bucky Bear in his hands once their purchases had been paid for, and he didn’t let go even after the cameras were turned off.

 

***

 

Hill reported on Monday morning and graciously accepted the Gaines’ offer of breakfast.

“We’ve rooted out all the remaining Hydra agents,” she said after the children had gone off to school. “What’s left are the neo-Nazis, but Fitz is getting on that. He’s been using your current base as his address, and the white nationalists have been going there for their meetings.”

Steve tapped his fingers on the table. It made sense for Fitz to use that house, because it was hooked up to Tony’s AI system, so the neo-Nazis’ faces and prints were now on record. “We have just two more days to go before the reveal.”

“I’d feel safer if Steve and Barnes are with me,” said Joanna. Crew was secured and snug in a yellow and white checked sling. “And I’m taking Crew to work today.”

Hill nodded. She rose from her seat and thanked Joanna for breakfast. “We have Simmons and Coulson playing substitute teachers for the week. Daisy will shadow Chip all day and follow him to his other worksites. Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes will be with you. May is mission control and I’m going to liaise with local law enforcement. Will the center be done today?”

“The bathroom counters haven’t been delivered yet,” said Joanna.

“They cut it too small,” said Bucky.

Steve sighed. They had already pushed the project as fast as it could go. Chip had managed to shorten the timeline from nine weeks to five, which by all accounts was a miracle.

Hill tapped her fingers on her left elbow. “Will that be an issue for the reveal?”

Joanna shook her head. “Doubt it. If you can coordinate with our producers and the VA, then I can sort out the decor today, and we can have reveal day tomorrow instead of next week.”

“Then you’ll do reveal day tomorrow.” Hill smiled at them and left without a word.

 

***

 

The production team outdid themselves, probably with help from Stark Industries, because instead of the usual gigantic poster that Joanna and Chip slide apart on wheels, the entire building was covered with a firm white board and the image of the community center’s former state projected on it by drones.

“This looks amazing,” Chip remarked in awe. “Wow! Can you imagine if we could have this on a regular basis?”

“We’ve retired, Chip.”

“But Jo Jo, look how awesome that is.”

“No, Chip.” Joanna looked very pretty in an oversized soft gray tee with the Avengers’ _A_ on it and dark skinny jeans. Bucky felt absurdly pleased whenever he saw it, probably because it was his and he’d given it to Joanna that very morning. It did feel strange to be giving another man’s wife his own tee shirt, especially one that Bucky considered a Comfort Item, but it was precious to him, and he did not have many precious things.

He had told her as much when he passed her the folded-up tee shirt in a paper bag and a note inside. Her eyes had gone red and wet for a moment before she asked to hug him, and he had allowed her to. Steve had looked absurdly proud of him for that. Chip’s grin was as wide as his face could hold a grin.

Makeup artist Gloria had tutted at all of them because they were slowing down the production schedule, but since this time Bucky allowed her to fuss with his skin and hair (all while he gripped Steve’s fingers), she didn’t express too much disapproval. Hence, after only ten minutes, Bucky emerged unscathed from Gloria with some very light makeup and the top part of his hair bound behind his head, showing off his sharp jaw and high cheekbones. The blue jacket picked out for him was almost the exact shade of his jacket in the war, except this was in a soft leather with four pocket (that he’d immediately filled with two small throwing knives each), and his black skinny jeans were ripped at the knees. The leather jacket was helpful in concealing his pistol.

“Damn, you look like a model,” Chip said, eying Bucky from head to toe. “This episode is going to have amazing ratings if marketing just showed you walking around in that.”

Bucky squinted. “Why would my walking around lead to amazing ratings?”

“Man, you have no idea how hot you really are, aren’t you? No wonder Joanna loves you!” When Chip laughed, he laughed from the belly, and even a bemused Bucky was smiling at his mirth.

Steve came out looking a little mussed up and sexy, like Bucky had pressed him against a wall and run his hands through those short blond hair. His navy shirt was tight across the chest, as always, and Gloria had got him to put on a silver watch, which reminded Bucky of handcuffs and suddenly his mind was sparking with ideas involving shackles and pleading.

_Thank you Gloria._

Once they had a short chat with Maria Hill and the assistant production manager Fion, all four of them were ready. The street had been sealed, and the VA center’s staff as well as their regulars were waiting just outside of the barricade. Two of the three directors of the VA community center showed up and they were ready to roll.

The first three takes were really bad, because they kept turning to stare at the camera instead of just looking at the building, but they finally got used to it. Bucky and Steve stood behind the camera, with Bucky fighting the urge to undo the hair tie and shake his hair free so his face could be covered.

This was for Sam and the VA. He wanted to do this.

“Of course, on this project, we aren’t looking at equity,” Chip was saying aloud where he stood next to Lin and Nathan. “We’re looking at how to improve the quality of life for veterans in the area.”

“In this we had Stark Industries sponsoring us with some of the best technology that assists with people who have PTSD or physical disabilities,” Joanna picked up the line smoothly. “In fact, not only did they send us the technology, they also sent us two amazing helpers.”

That was the cue. Taking a deep breath, Steve strode forward with his shield on his left arm and Bucky behind him, when they suddenly heard lots of yelling at the barricades. The two swiveled around just in time to see a white Chevy plow through the barricade, running over at least three people, and a convoy of eight motorcycles raced down the street.

Steve grabbed the cameraman and production manager while Bucky shoved everyone who had been in front of the camera to the community center.

“Get around to the back,” he ordered. “Call the police and ambulances, tell them to keep people out of this area.”

Joanna was pale, but Chip and the veteran soldiers nodded. Bucky urged them to move and kept an eye on them until they had got to safety. Then Bucky got to work. He didn’t want any shooting, but if there was to be shooting, it should not be at the building they had just renovated. Unfortunately, unlike New York, there was no way for Bucky to take cover other than the building itself.

The Chevrolet had stopped and four men got out, armed with semi-automatic rifles. The other eight bikers were armed too but with handguns. They all wore red and black, and Bucky could see unpleasantly familiar Fascist symbols tattooed on their necks or arms. Five of them moved like civilians; the others were definitely military.

He drew his favored SIG-Sauer p220 from his back holster. Hill should be circling round too.

“Fellas, what do you want?” Steve said, his voice carrying. Bucky rolled his eyes.

“We want you dead and that fucking building razed,” shouted one of the men. “The fuck you think you are, swanning in and setting up shop to spy on us? Think we’re some dumb hicks that you can fool us?”

Bucky didn’t wait for Steve to answer. He ran out from the back of the new community center, dashing all the way towards their car, and slid behind it. As expected, the thugs began shooting at him without even checking what they were shooting at.

Within two seconds, Bucky heard the first yell. Steve had started the fight. Knowing Steve, he was looking to incapacitate, not kill, so Bucky would have to follow his example. He jumped onto the hood of the Chevy, firing two shots into two men, taking out a kneecap each, and then leaped down and kicked away their AR-15s. Steve punched out a thickset man in a denim vest, then hurled his shield to bounce off two others. The shield clattered off towards Bucky while he took down another man, except he had to shoot the other kneecap because the first leg he had shot at had been a prosthetic.

“The hell is a shield good for if you don’t shield yourself?” Bucky swore at Steve while shooting out the gun and then the kneecap of a man who was about to shoot at Captain America. Then he kicked the shield back to Steve, who caught it out of the air.

Steve grinned, entirely unapologetic, just before he sprinted towards Bucky, pushed him down, and sheltered him behind the shield when gunfire rained down on them.

“You sure I can’t just shoot to kill?” Bucky muttered rebelliously.

“No, jerk, I don’t want us to have to explain why we’re killing people on HGTV.”

“Fine. Punk.”

Then they heard a mechanical, piercing whine and winced. Bucky thought he might be yelling, because something about the frequency brought him back to the chair, and he could taste blood in his mouth; he screamed at Steve, or possibly for Steve, he didn’t know, he needed Steve to leave before they got him-

The sound died away and silence fell like Thor’s hammer.

Bucky was shaking, clammy and freezing even in the sun. Steve dropped his shield to cradle Bucky to his chest; Bucky wanted to tell his best friend to _pick the shield up, don’t be stupid, they can still shoot you, they can shoot you and put you in the chair, and your brain isn’t invulnerable even if you have a super thick skull-_

“It’s okay, Buck, it’s okay, they’re down, the drones got them with a sound barrage, it’s fine, stay with me love, please, stay focused on me.” Steve pressed a kiss to Bucky’s forehead and hugged him close, shutting out the rest of the world, and Bucky could feel all his nerves still raw from the memory of the chair. Steve kept whispering nonstop to him, however, and that was his tether to the present, Steve Rogers’ voice telling him that it was all okay.

 

***

 

In the end, they did the reveal the day after, and this time everything went off well, even if Bucky refused to speak and he hadn’t allowed Gloria to touch his head at all.

The community center was very well received by the staff and the regulars, and they all laughed at the vintage Captain America posters mounted outside the counseling rooms. What took pride of place was a wall of photos of Steve and Bucky with various veterans. Bucky particularly liked the one where all of them with prostheses showed them off. Steve enjoyed the games room, though he was barred from playing darts because the ones he threw went through the board and into the wall.

“I’ll repair that,” Chip promised, “and I’ll send Captain Rogers the bill.”

“No, no, I’ll pay for that,” Clint Harp said. “They saved my life. It’s the least I can do.”

Afterwards, they all went to Magnolia Farm with the production crew for the final bit, for the part where Steve talked about the work the VA did and how they needed better funding in order to support veterans.

Bucky had to redo the bit where he gave Joanna with the tee shirt, this time for the cameras, and Joanna read aloud a note before she hugged him and thanked him. Emmie Kay and Ella Rose dyed a scarf for him. Chip got Steve to sign a baseball bat for Duke, a hat for Drake, and the baseball cards for himself. Then, the kids gave them both a lovely collage of them while they were guests at the farm.

Bucky knew he cried on camera. He didn’t care.

 

***

 

“Thank you guys,” said Sam, when the gang assembled in the common lounge area to view the final cut of the HGTV special. “I can’t imagine how it’s been, fighting Hydra and neo-Nazis while renovating.”

“We didn’t do all that much renovating, to be honest,” said Steve. He was drinking beer purely for the taste, one arm draped over the back of the couch, and Bucky was leaning into his side, with his legs up on the cushions. It felt familiar and perfect, and he didn’t care that he was getting Looks from Natasha and Tony. Clint sprawled in the armchair, popcorn in his lap, and didn’t bother with any Look. He’d taken a glance and merely winked at Steve.

The episode unfolded. Tony and Sam gave commentary, ribbing them for the personalized hard-hats.

“I couldn’t wear it,” said Bucky. “Bad associations.”

“We could put them in a glass case and set them in the lobby in the VA headquarters or something,” said Sam. “I mean, this shit is cute as hell. I’m gonna bet there will be tons of donations after it’s aired.”

All of them aww-ed and ahh-ed when Emmie Kay showed Bucky how to feed the goats. Bucky pointed out that he was using the hair tie she gave him at that very moment, and Steve just had to hug him closer. Pepper chose to join them then, dressed in a loose shirt and denim shorts, and took her seat in Tony’s lap.

“Oh,” she said artlessly, “you two look so adorable sitting together with Joanna and Crew.”

“Like newlyweds picking out a design for their home,” said Natasha.

Steve shrugged with his other shoulder, the one Bucky wasn’t resting on. “We wouldn’t move to Texas, even if I like the Gaines a lot.”

“No,” said Bucky. “We prefer staying here. Or Brooklyn, in our old neighborhood.”

“Okay, that’s it,” said Tony. “You two. Spill. How long has this been going on and how come I didn’t know about it?”

Sam paused the show. “Tony, come on, they’ve always been together.” Then he frowned and squinted at Steve. “Right?”

Clint booed Sam. “You two can speculate later. I wanna know if they picked the penny round tiles or the hexagon for the backsplash. Oh, and the slate gray floor? Perfection.”

As Sam restarted the show, Bucky snuggled in closer to Steve, tugging Steve’s arm from the couch to fall around him instead. Glancing down, Steve saw that Bucky was smiling, and thought, _This is all I ever wanted._

Bucky must have sensed Steve looking at him. He grasped the blond’s fingers and squeezed. _[---  -.-  ..--..]_

Steve squeezed back. _[---  -.-]_

**Author's Note:**

> [--- -.-] means "OK"  
> [--- -.- ..--..] means "OK?"


End file.
